|Getting ready to type the story I wrote long hand on Friday.|
I was grateful, first and foremost, for being able to enjoy this activity with my mom. Writing is something we both love. I was grateful we could share something writing-related together.
The group meets at Factory Fuel, a coffee shop built on the site of a former commercial pottery. Our group actually meets inside one of the old cone-shaped kilns. Although the skills represented in the group are far from equal (members range from college professors to published writers down to amateurs, like myself), we sit in a circle around the tiny room, which creates the feeling of everyone being equal. I was grateful we could meet in an atmosphere that was both beautiful and conducive to creating.
Although I suppose I could wrangle my laptop into the car and take it with me, it is too large for somebody of my stature, whose feet are always dangling when seated, to manage using on my lap. I think I would be too afraid to drop it. What I didn't expect was how empowering writing long-hand would be, after so many years of rarely picking up a pencil. In some ways, I think the words flowed easier because I knew, before I put them down on the page, that they would not be easy to change. I was grateful for the sense of connection with my words that putting pen to paper creates.
Last, but not least, both times I've attended the group I wrote a complete flash fiction that only required minor tweaking after the fact. It is an important reminder that a little pressure and accountability is a good thing for the creative process. I was grateful that the writing group was not only fun, but productive.
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